


Exaggerated Memories From the Valley Where We Lay Our Heads

by DoubleMastectomy



Series: Zone Five Quarantine Fair [4]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Backstory, Emetophobia, Family Fluff, First Meetings, Gen, I mean they're all trans so, Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), POV Alternating, POV First Person, Selectively Mute Kobra Kid, Trans Jet Star (Danger Days), Trans Party Poison (Danger Days), Underage Drinking, Unreliable Narrator, for the majority of it at least, more so implied but he's trans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26410600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleMastectomy/pseuds/DoubleMastectomy
Summary: Party Poison holds the Girl close and tells her about how they got their name.
Relationships: Jet Star & Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days), Motorbaby | Grace & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Zone Five Quarantine Fair [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733770
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Exaggerated Memories From the Valley Where We Lay Our Heads

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Zone Five Quarantine Fair's "names" prompt back in May, but I only got around to finishing it this week. To be honest it's way better now than it would've been had I finished/published it a few months ago, so if anything I'd call this a win for the lgbt community! Enjoy!

It was the kind of spring day where you could breathe in the gentle breeze and feel it fill your lungs like an embrace. Under a smokey grey sky, the tender air itself was the kind of golden it’d be when the sun was just about to set and the warm humidity caught the light just so. And in a valley brimming with a wildflower bloom sat Party Poison and the Girl, picnicking.

It was their day off, a day of soft homemade sandwiches and of a patchwork quilt (the one Show Pony had gifted them a few years prior). With no one else in sight, they leaned against the Trans Am’s bumper looking out at the mountain range lining the horizon. It was lit up in the evening glow like an extravagant picture frame for the field of purple, yellow, and white petals, round speckles of flowers all bundled up as if in their own comfortable families.

Though, really, it was only Poison who looked out at this scene. The Witch herself could not have made a landscape picturesque enough to capture the Girl’s attention that day. Instead, the Girl only had eyes for Poison.

“How’d you pick your name?” she asked out of nowhere, in the way that young children do.

“Hmm?” Poison hummed, lifting her by her arms and sitting her in their lap. They wrapped her up in a bearhug, keeping her close.

She smiled, squinting from the stray hairs that curled into her face. Quietly, her words almost blending together, she rephrased her inquiry: “Did you pick your name?”

“Well of course I did, Girlie, everyone gets to pick whatever name they want.” They bounced her on their leg just once, eliciting giggles, then brushed her hair back behind her ear where it was stubborn not to stay. Without turning away, they plucked a flower from the ground. Leaving enough stem on it so that they could, they slid it into one of her curls, adding to the many blossoms that were already braided in.

“Then how’d you pick it?”

“Well let’s see, ummm…” they started out softly with a grin, the sun sparkling in their eyes, “It was a dark and stormy night, and the rain fell in torrents…”

The Girl laughed at that, “It doesn’t storm!”

“Hey sometimes it storms! What about last May when we got that lightning? We were all huddled up in the Radio Station for days waiting for an intermission while Cola kept the leaky roof at bay.”

Suddenly unsure of herself, the Girl paused. “ _Was_ it storming? Acid rain?”

Poison sighed. “No, no. I was just tryin’ to make it sound better. The evening was more bright and sunny, I think. Though daylight was washing down the drain fast.” A distant look crossed their face. “Yeah, not a cloud in the sky. Me and Kobes had just gotten out and it felt like the sky went on forever.”

“From the City? When you got out... I’ve heard this part before.”

“Right, but this was a little bit after that. Me and the Kid got out and it was bright and sunny and -”

“But it’s always bright and sunny!” she complained, critiquing their story, “It shoulda been storming.”

They chuckled. “So you want it to be a stormy night after all?”

She nodded, snuggling close.

“Alright then, where were we? It was a dark and stormy night. The rain fell in the most terrible of torrents. Me and the Kid had just gotten out - not on that exact day, but it hadn’t been a pilgrimage yet either. Kobra had already picked his name out by then of course. It’d come easy to him. He’d always been too smart. Too smart for his own good and too smart for anyone else’s.

Even back in the City he’d known his real name, he’d just kept it a secret in his throat ‘til we were free. And once we were? He could hardly go half a minute without indulging in its sound. ‘Kobra, Kobra, Kobra…’ on repeat. He thought it sounded so cool, nothing more than that. And that’s as good a reason as any isn’t it? At the time I wished it could’ve been so easy for me. But it wasn’t. I was nameless.

I’d ditched my cityname the moment we crossed the border. That was never mine to begin with. Unfortunately as much as a replacement was needed, my brain was out of stock. I had no ideas no matter how much thinking or pacing I put myself through. In Kobra’s consoling arms, I cursed myself under my breath.

But, on this dark and stormy night, things fell into place. Or the beginning of things did. The corner pieces of the puzzle snapped into themselves and the image was falling into focus, not that I could’ve known so yet.

We were hiding out in an old warehouse when suddenly a figure, drenched down to his skin, barged in. He was so distracted by this sudden downpour he hadn’t even noticed that we were in there with him, not ‘til his ruckus woke up Kobra that is.

Kobra screamed, jumping to his feet. Then I jumped up too, snapped out of my tangram daydreaming. This newcomer thought it was an ambush and shouted as well until all three of us realized at once that, well, if all of us were scared that must’ve meant none of us were a threat. So we calmed down. Then we sat.

He introduced himself as Jet Star -”

The Girl perked up at this.

“- and he could tell we were undergrads. We were still in our street clothes and awfully timid.

He told us, ‘Don’t worry about anything tonight. The nearest crew is an hour away and the nearest crow is twice that,’ which soothed the Kid’s nerves enough.

Kobra introduced himself after Jet. Then Jet turned to me, expecting me to take my turn. But I had nothing to say. I sat there, thoughts racing out of my mind. How great would it’ve been if only I’d a stroke of genius in that very moment! Blurted out something right then. Something perfect. Could’ve instantly established myself as the killjoy I knew I was. The killjoy I know I am.” They shook their head.

“I floundered, Girlie.

Jet assured me I was fine. ‘Take your time,’ he said, ‘There’s nothing wrong with being unsure. It’s an important decision.’

That should've been enough for me, but my soul was brimming with unrest. My eyes watered. Looking for an easy distraction, Jet offered to show us around the desert in the morning once the weather cleared up, if we wanted.”

“That’s how you met Jet?” The Girl interrupted.

“It was! We didn’t think he’d stick around but - well I haven’t gotten to that part yet.” They kissed the top of her head softly and whispered like a secret, “You know, his hair was longer then. Nearly reached his back.”

As the Girl occupied herself trying to imagine that, Poison took a moment to breathe. They picked up the fabric cooler from the blanket they sat on and pulled out the second half of the Girl’s sandwich.

“You should eat the rest of this before it melts.”

She took it in both her hands, unbothered by Poison giving their voice a break. There were a few sodas left in the cooler as well. They cracked one open and drank it slowly before continuing.

“That next morning,” Poison resumed, “we headed out just as promised.

It was foggy from the rain and the perfect weather for going out on foot. Cool and not as dry as it could've been. Jet said that if we’d met him a day prior he would’ve had a motorcycle, if only he hadn’t lost it to a bet. Kobra was amazed by that, but I still think that Starryeyes was bluffing. Either way I didn’t mind hiking. I still needed to get my desert legs under myself and what better way than that?

For the next few hours I just watched the way mist wrapped around my legs as I walked. Like a wake around the boats we learned about in school. As background noise, Jet explained everything to us - everything we had yet to familiarize ourselves with.

My little sunshine you’re so lucky where you’re growing up, but there’s so many things you take for granted that me and Kobra just didn’t understand back then. Even the geography itself we had only the vaguest understandings of. What’s more basic than the way our world sparks around us? To us, it was a foreign language. I knew there were zones but I only knew of the first five, and I only knew of them to be small and desolate. According to Jet we were still in Zone One, traveling south, and as far as he was concerned the first zone was the ugliest.

He promised us that by the second zone there would be life and the world would breathe.

‘Once you stand on the edge of a Zone Four mountain, your whole life shifts,’ Jet proclaimed, arms spread in emphasis, ‘The sands are more red than you could ever imagine. Everything before that moment becomes meaningless. Everything after that moment is nothing but you chasing that high again.’

We encountered our first mailbox on that hike, as well. Kobra spotted it over a hill.

‘What’s that?’ he asked with a nervous tone to his voice. Must’ve thought it was something from the City judging by its silhouette.

‘Oh that’s just a mailbox.’ Jet kicked a rock at his feet. ‘Do you want to see it?’

I ran to it first. Knowing it was no threat replaced my fear with curiosity. Up close, my curiosity only grew.

‘What’s with all the…' I gestured to the shrine cocooning it, melted candles and polaroids pinned under wax.

‘Offerings for the Witch.’ Jet stopped me from opening the slot cover during my inspection. ‘Only masks go in there. Unless you don’t have a mask. Then anything your crewmates can find of yours goes in.’

‘Why would you put a mask in -’

‘If you’re dead. The Witch needs them for…’ He gestured as if still thinking of an explanation. ‘… Well, when you’re dead she takes care of you. The masks help her do that.’

The only response I could think of was ‘Oh.’ There really was nothing else to say to that.”

The Girl shifted in Poison’s lap. “Aren’t there mailboxes in the City?”

“None at all, no. Not even for the archaic purposes of mail itself. Everything in Battery may be on top of itself, but it’s all so isolated.”

“But what happens when…” She didn’t finish her thought.

“When someone… passes?” Poison suddenly grew embarrassed about how frankly they’d brought the subject up a moment before, but the Girl nodded a confirmation and didn’t seem particularly agitated.

“In the City, when someone passes, nothing in particular happens. A draculoid will take the body, I don’t know where to, and the surrounding area will be sterilized. But after death,” they looked down, ashamed to admit the cold reality, “there isn’t anything after death in the City.”

“Luckily,” They added, trying to lighten the grim mood, “You won’t have to worry about that. Not now, not ever. And one day the world will be right-side up again and you won’t have to worry about anything at all!”

The Girl grinned, “Is that for sure?”

They pressed their forehead to hers, “For sure. Now do you want me to continue or not?”

“Please?”

They smiled. “Jet said that at the end of our hike, that night, we would be going to a party.

Some of his friends were hosting an event at the F-You House. Remember Ghoul took you to a show there your last birthday? On this night there’d be a Cold Dead performance, a few openers, and drinks. Most important, however, there would be other killjoys. Jet crossed-his-heart and hoped-to-die that he’d show us what being a killjoy was really like.

‘Just wait,’ he said, ‘You’ll flip seeing how some of these motorbabies look. Speaking of which.’ He unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt and rolled my sleeves three quarters of the way up. ‘That’ll have to do for now.’ He offered the same gesture to Kobra. ‘Now you’ll look at least an ounce bonus track. In the dark, no one will be able to tell what clothes you’re wearing.’

‘Radical,’ Kobra sighed.

I spoke up to Jet, ‘You said there’d be a band there?’

‘Naturally.’

‘What do they sound like?’ I shifted on my feet.

See, something you need to understand about Battery City is that the music is regulated there. The musicians (if you could even call ‘em that) are just as much a mass produced product as anything else.

But I’d heard about desert music. We were spoonfed propaganda our whole lives about dangerous deregulation turning people into delinquents and degenerates. It scared me, but it excited me more.

Jet thought over my question. ‘There’s a strong bass-y sound with Cold Dead, but nothing too experimental. Two bassists and a helium-vet will do that to a band. And I don’t know the openers, sorry, but they should be loud if F-You knows who’s good to line.’

I didn’t understand that answer. Maybe I just hadn’t rightfully expressed what I was trying to ask. But ‘bass-y’, a meaningless word, caught my attention enough that I was satisfied.

The sun spun higher. Surely enough, plants sprouted up as we crossed into Zone Two. Weird spindly bushes and flat succulents I had to step around. Then the sun lowered itself again and we reached the F-You House before dusk, early for the show.

Because Jet planned to help set up, Kobra and I were roped into those duties as well. Without any stage-tech knowledge, our ‘help’ mostly consisted of us messing around with the pedals at Jet’s side. I turned the knobs and pressed buttons while Kobra strummed a guitar, producing the loveliest fuzz in the world.

‘That’s enough,’ Jet criticized, taking the equipment from our hands, ‘You shouldn’t mess it up.’

Over time other killjoys filtered in as well. Soon, the sight of water stained ceiling tiles and thin plank walls was replaced by colored lights, faces, and the fried opening chords of the first band.

When the overhead lights flipped off, the rainbow spotlights were transformed into neon crepuscular rays and I wasn’t nervous anymore. My soul knew sudden comfort as the band’s singer screamed.

‘Kobra! Do you hear that?’

Louder than anything I’d ever heard before, the drums beat in my chest.

‘Holy shit!’

Dusty speakers filled my bones with an energy unlike anything I’d ever felt. The way other killjoys moved and shouted around me told me they felt it too.

I pulled Kobra over to the drink table. Off to the side, it offered me momentarily relief from overwhelming euphoria. It was a skimpy little table, just the kind you unfold, with some bottles and cups on it. I didn’t recognize the cordial, didn’t even register what any of it was, so I just picked the prettiest bottle and poured.

‘Here, Kobra.’

‘This,’ he pointed at the room, ‘is a lot. Are you sure about this?’

I tapped my cup to his. ‘We’re killjoys now. This is our family and it’s free for the taking!’

‘I’m not doubting you. I like the band. I’m having fun. But it’s a lot. Over there.’

I took a sip and followed his line of sight. Through the noise I could just barely make out who he was looking at.

‘Jet already has friends.’

The killjoy Jet was speaking to was older than us by a few years at least. Older than Jet too. Their hair was shaved on the side, pink, and pulled back into a bun.

What stood out the most to me however was their outfit. They wore a grungy crop top and high waisted jeans. It’s strange that I can still remember those jeans so well, but when I saw them the room spun around its focal point. They were more reminiscent of adapted city trends than anything else, or anything I’ve seen since, maybe that’s why I was so drawn. They were overall plain excluding the knees which were cut out and replaced by a clear plastic, rimmed with homemade stitching. The most simple thing in the world, but I was awestruck by the clear DIY nature of it. In the desert we could dress however we wanted and create whatever we wanted.

Kobra brought me back to reality, ‘We don’t look like that.’

We didn’t.

I downed the rest of my drink, pretending not to gag on its strength. ‘I’m going in.’

Kobra watched me push my way closer into the depths of the crowd. Everyone was so much taller than me. How old were these joys anyway? How long had each of them been free like this? Some of them would make eye contact as I passed, eye contact that I couldn’t read. I straightened my back.

When I reached Jet on the other side of the room, I didn’t say anything. The party was packed enough that he didn’t notice me a few feet away, nor did his friend. I strained my ears listening in to the conversation.

‘You’re not a babysitter, Jet.’

‘I swear they’re cool, I’m just showing them around.’

‘So you bring batt-rats to the F-You House as part of the grand tour? They’re gonna f with the vibe -’ it was then that I caught their sight.

All wide eyed and buggy, I must’ve looked so small. But seeing me, they were only cold.

‘Dust-angel!’ Jet exclaimed breaking tension, ‘It’s good to see you. You’re enjoying yourself? This is my buddy, Barbed Wire.’

Wire piggybacked, ‘ _Are_ you enjoying yourself?’ Despite their earlier comments, their curiosity seemed at least somewhat genuine.

‘It’s great. It’s really really good!’

‘Shiny, then?’

I didn’t understand.

‘Shiny. Sparkly. Glittery. It’s cool?’ They snapped their fingers at me and eyed Jet, frustrated that I was so out of touch.

‘Yeah! Yeah it is! Shiny as hell!’ I hoped that would satisfy them. But Wire didn’t seem the type. I suspect their frustration was being housed elsewhere that night.

I couldn’t be bothered with it. ‘Talk to you later.’ I returned to Kobra.

‘Good?’

‘Good.’

Things continued, but I was no longer present. Something had jarred my utopia back to spacetime.

‘Kobes?’

‘Hmm?’

‘You said you were having fun?’

‘I am. Look at them.’ He pointed at the guitarist on stage. ‘Look,’ he repeated.

I looked but I no longer felt anything. The guitarist’s excitement wasn’t a shared domain to me like it had been before.

I looked at Kobra, too, hair like a dandelion and eyes like daisies.

In the distance I heard Barbed Wire shouting about something that wasn’t my problem.

A spotlight hit me in the face like the eye of a storm.

Kobra had been right, it _was_ a lot. I’d grown up in a sensory deprivation tank but now I was being dunked head first into the hornet’s nest searching for honey.

That was when - and this is embarrassing to admit little sandpup - everything grew so staggering, so new, so _shiny_ in the worst and best ways, that I had a lapse in my presence. I got dizzy. But when I backed up to right myself, I backed right into that table we were spending so much time hovering around. Just a quick simple safe mistake and somehow my ankle got all tangled in the leg and down I went.

I fell to my knees and hands. Busy grappling with the pain, winded and embarrassed, I hardly even noticed that the table had come down with me. Cordial pooled around me seeping into my scrapes to the sensation of fire. The band didn’t pause but a concerned circle froze around me. Hands and faces began picking up the mess and asking me if I was okay. If my head weren’t cotton I would’ve answered.

Out of nowhere, a shout: ‘Look what you did, you f-ing spongehead!’

‘I didn’t mean t -’

‘You killed the whole party!’ Wire stood tall and angular.

Wordlessly, Jet helped me to my feet.

‘Wait 'til you’re a real joy before you try to pass off as one.’

Still holding my arm, Jet held a hand to Wire’s chest. ‘Calm down, there’s no need to get twisted.’

‘You get twisted. I invited you to this show ‘cause I trusted you and what did you do with my trust? You brought total f-ing party poison to the event and totaled it!’

I could feel the alcohol soaking through my socks. I could feel the panic soaking through my lungs. With what little dignity I had left, I pulled free and ran. What else was I to do? I still had the scent of metropolis asphalt on me.

The air was cold outside. Much colder than I’d ever felt in temp-controlled Bat, and colder than the easygoing evenings before. Around the corner was where I planted my palms against the wall and vomited. All my enthusiasm came out of me at once and stung my nostrils.

Done hacking, the night went silent and alone.

If it were an ideal world, I would have done something brave. I would’ve gone back in there and fixed my mistake, because in the end it really was my mistake. Or at least I’d have proved Wire wrong, proved it to their face with my fist. But I didn’t have the energy to be satisfying. I sat there and sobbed.

Everything came over me then. My endless frustration with my namelessness was suddenly meaningless - no, that’s not it either. My frustration with my name only became meaningless in that moment because that was never the frustration to begin with.

I told you I thought Wire wasn’t truly angry with me, not directly. Something else unseen had spurred them before my presence. In retrospect I think my anger was misplaced too. Under the exteriors of it, all my pacing and cursing wasn’t about a stupid name or lack thereof.

I was only frustrated with myself for not being a killjoy yet. A name was as much a symbol of my failure as my lack of good clothes or good hair or experience.

How could I have left the city without a plan, without a glory. Kobra had it so easy, too easy, in comparison, carefree just following me around while I bore the weight of our struggles. It wasn’t fair of me to be thinking that way but I was, pretending that I wasn’t.

My fists strained against my eyelids. How idiotic could I be for thinking I had anything under control.

Only one problem in life; the lack of a name? No! I had endless problems. My life was nothing but a string of problems, the only common denominator being me. And, oh, in that moment how hopeless it all felt as I realized with sharp clarity that I’d never be able to return home again.

I hated Battery City. But I’d bet all my priceless chips on the assumption that the desert would be my safe-haven, and I’d lost the whole pot. I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t go forward. Everything I knew and loved was gone without replacement. Everything except Kobra.

I didn’t hear him sit down next to me, but I felt his hug. He didn’t say anything, I’m sure he couldn’t, but he took to braiding my hair in thin strands instead. The sensation grounded me and I breathed for the first time since I took my tumble.

I didn’t hear Jet either until he spoke. ‘You know, I’m also new to the Zones.’

I spat on my pants and rubbed at the stains, trying to lift them. ‘Thought you said you’d been here a while.’

‘Yeah - I mean, kinda. Did I say that? It’s been a while but not a _while_ while. I’ve been out longer than you but I’m not a verified cowboy yet.’

I looked up at him. ‘So you’re from Bat too?’

‘Juvee.’

I turned away again, voiceless.

‘I’ve been out for, I don’t know, two months I think. Maybe three. It’s hard to keep track when you don’t have a schedule. I hope you know I wasn’t lying about anything earlier, either. I’m just good at picking up on things and I’m happy to share. No one’s good at picking me up though. I think I lost Wire as an ally tonight and that’s not the first tally in my rejection pile.’

‘I’m not like that.’ I was too defensive, ‘I’m not like Wire either. I’m not trying to fit in.’

‘It seemed like you were when you were having fun.’

‘Until I wasn’t. Your friend - your ex-friend - thinks I’m just some sorta toxic drag of a child but I’m not! I’m not a child. I’m more of an adult than anyone who tried to raise me and I’m more of a killjoy than Wire could ever be if they act as pretentious as that.

Shit, I’m not just a drag! Or a batt-rat or a spongehead or anything else they think! I fought for my right to be out here with killjoys like them. I fought for that right with a younger brother to watch over too.

I could’ve died a hundred times trying to get out here and each death would’ve been less painful than failing. But I didn’t die and we didn’t fail. We won. I stared death in the face and she let me pass and now I’m here.’

I pulled Kobra’s hand away from my hair and held it.

‘What was the other thing Wire called me?’

‘Besides batt-rat and spongehead?’

‘Yeah, besides that. I’m - I’m still learning your language, sorry I can’t remember.’

‘They said you were party poison I think?’

‘Yes! That!’

Jet looked at me puzzled. ‘What about it? I’m sorry they were so mean to you, if I knew I wouldn’t have brought you.’

‘No, that’s me!’

More lost than before, Jet clearly wasn't following my hyperactive logic. ‘ _What’s_ you? Party poison?’

‘Party Poison. Yeah exactly! Wire was wrong about me being a drag, but if I’m not a _real killjoy_ like them, then so be it. I’m not gonna grow up into that. I’m gonna grow into something better. I’m gonna shake things up and tear the world to shreds and I'll be - I don’t know - my own brand of pest surviving against the face of extermination.’

‘That’s so dramatic,’ he laughed, ‘but I think I understand.’

We were quiet again for a minute, tracing patterns in the miniature sand dunes beneath the stoop.

‘We should head out before we get into any more trouble.’ I stood up with Kobra still hanging off my arm.

‘Wait. Can I come with you?’

‘That was never even a question in my mind.’ I pulled Jet up. ‘Of course you’re coming with us, you’re our friend too now.’

As he stood, his momentum pushed him into a hug. 'Thank you.'

As far as I'm concerned, that was when we became the Fab Four. Ghoul hadn't joined us yet, but in spirit we'd found ourselves and the universe was hollowing out our niche.

I can't remember where we went after that, only that the sun and moon watched us closely." Poison breathed in. "So how's that for a story? Good?" 

  


* * *

  


By the time Poison had finished, the sky was darker than before. The Girl let out a shiver and Poison pulled her in closer. They wrapped the spare blanket around her.

“Wanna head back soon, love? Everyone’s gonna be waiting on our return.”

“What about the stars?”

Poison turned towards the sky where a few twinkling points were beginning to show. They could still feel her shivering at their side but they didn't want to disappoint her.

“Hmm… How about this," they mused, "We drive back to the Diner and then we can stargaze there? It’ll be the same night sky and Pony can join us, or Jet, or Ghoul, or Kobra, or -” They nuzzled against the side of her face as she laughed. “Come on.” They nudged her to stand.

When the Trans Am drove off, careful around the natural garden, it left silver dust in its wake. Its breeze washed over the flowerbeds. The killjoys disappeared too quickly behind the mountains, off to enjoy their fleeting evening elsewhere, and the valley grew empty, silent, and soft. Blue air held their words in its hands. And if you looked carefully enough, you would've been able to see a purple midnight fog rolling in for an audience of crickets.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments appreciated!


End file.
